The Ball
by hawkeyesbutt
Summary: When John Watson moves to a new school, he finds himself best friends with none other than Sherlock Holmes. But suddenly, Sherlock's found a new friend, someone who he can relate to more easily... Jim Moriarty. Is John just upset that Sherlock hasn't been spending enough time with him or is there something more? Johnlock/Sheriarty.
1. Chapter 1

The sun hung loosely in the white sky, a fresh London morning pressuring the light into the eyes of pupils as they made their way into school. The trees stood bare, their leaves fallen and drifted away on the wind. The pupils grumbled to each other as they filed in through the school gates, moaning about the weather while trying to discuss their Christmas'. Sherlock Holmes was sat on a wall on the edge of the court yard, reading a book. He wasn't fussed by the weather. He just wanted to get inside so he could finish his tedious lessons and go home after to do activities he enjoyed.

Being in year 10, Sherlock Holmes was starting out his GCSEs. He had regularly been informed that this work was excellent and he should keep it up to get good grades in his exams. There was one lesson which Sherlock hated the most among the others. This may have been because he was good at all of his subjects except this one, or for the same reason everybody loathed it; it was P.E. Sherlock was a thin boy; his curly hair was a dark shade of brown, his eyes a greeny-bluey colour. He didn't have friends, but he had never wanted any anyway.

The bell finally went and the pupils rushed into the school, sheltering from the cold. Sherlock walked along with the crowd, getting shoved or pushed. Finally he made his way to his form room where he quickly sat down, avoiding the gaze of the pupils already in there. Their form tutor had yet to appear, so Sherlock continued to read. He started feeling balls of paper being thrown at him and looked up. There was Anderson; his nasty little rat-like face was scrunched up in an unpleasant manor. Sherlock had always hated Anderson; he hated most people of course, but Anderson was high on the list. "Anderson, don't be such a prick or I'll just tell your girlfriend about what you get up to with Sally Donovan." Anderson stopped throwing things and Sherlock resumed reading. His tutor walked in finally, the whole form having to stand up to say good morning. Sherlock Holmes remained in his seat. "Thank you, you may sit down." The tutor said, sitting down at his own desk. "We have a new student joining us today, his name is John Watson. He'll arrive shortly after filling out some paperwork. Now, onto the register."

The tutor began to read out names of pupils, then replying with a "Yes sir" to show they were present. As the tutor got to Sherlock's name, he simply muttered, "Yes." The tutor looked up at him expectantly.  
"Yes what, Sherlock?"  
"Yes, Mycroft."  
"Yes SIR, Sherlock. Sir."  
"I'm not calling you sir."  
"You have to."  
"Do not."  
"Enough!" Mycroft Holmes shouted. "Sherlock, if you can't behave, go and stand outside." Sherlock rolled his eyes, standing up and heading for the door. He slammed it shut behind him, leaning against the wall beside it. Stupid brother, Sherlock thought.

Voices sounded from down the hallway, catching Sherlock's attention. A woman stood with a boy, probably Sherlock's age. She kissed his cheek before saying goodbye and leaving. The boy rubbed his cheek with his sleeve, removing any excess saliva. He walked down the hall and then spotted Sherlock. "Hi," he said, grinning. "Is this 2B?"  
Sherlock looked him up and down. "Yes."  
The boy stared at him. "Why are you outside?"  
"Because my form tutor, now also your form tutor is an absolute twat. I wouldn't call him 'sir' in the register so he sent me out. God, I tire of him."  
"Why wouldn't you call him sir?"  
Just then, the door opened. Mycroft Holmes glared down at Sherlock, then spotted the boy. He smiled. "Ah! You must be John Watson. Welcome to our form. I hope Sherlock hasn't been unkind; he's not good with people."  
Sherlock glared at him. "What are you going to do, punish me?"  
"We'll talk about this later, Sherlock. Now get inside."

Sherlock pushed past Mycroft, heading inside. Mycroft stepped back inside with John, introducing him to the form. There was only one free seat in the form; next to Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock sighed when he realised this; no more peace and quiet for him. John looked as boring as everyone else in the room. He sat down quietly next to Sherlock, getting out his things. Mycroft told them they could now spend the rest of form time talking. John turned to Sherlock, trying to find something to say. "So, you're Sherlock," he said. "Strange name."  
"Mm. Old fashioned, I prefer. John is an old name too, but I suppose it is more normal than mine."  
"Yeah. So, why don't you like our tutor? He seemed alright to me. What's his name again?"  
Sherlock sighed. "Mr Mycroft Holmes. My brother."  
"Wait, he's your brother?" Sherlock nodded.  
"Wow. Okay. The hating thing sort of makes sense now."  
Sherlock looked John up and down again. John noticed and questioned him. "Why do you keep doing that?" He asked. "Looking me up and down?"  
Sherlock shrugged. "I'm just trying to find out more about you."  
"What do you mean?"  
Sherlock grinned. "I can deduce people. I can find out things about them by the smallest detail."  
John looked intrigued. "Okay. Try me."  
Sherlock took in his face and his body structure, his behaviour and looks. "Your name is John Watson, you recently moved here from another part of London by the sound of your accent. You're fifteen, same as me and you moved school because your parents wanted you to have a better education. They think you could be intelligent if you tried, maybe get a good job like a lawyer in future, but you don't want that, you obviously enjoy sports, probably rugby, most boys do, you also would like to join the army possibly when you're older, not because you don't think you can get any good qualifications but because you want to help people which is shown by how much you care and the way you stared at the medical poster on the wall on your way in. Army doctor is what you'd like to be, I assume. You're worried about your sister; she's just come out f a relationship, been partying a lot, taken up drinking. You prefer your mother to your father and you're nervous about being in a new school with new people."

Sherlock looked at John. John stared back, utterly confused and intrigued. "How did you..."  
"Did I get anything wrong?"  
"No, no... All completely right. How did you-"  
"Tutor time is over; we need to go to lessons." Sherlock stood, packing away his stuff before asking John about his lessons. He became fond of him in a matter of minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks had passed since John had joined the school and he already had a best friend. This one was a lot different to his old best friends. They had never been quite as interesting as him. Sherlock Holmes had never had a best friend. He had spent the majority of his life speaking only with his brother Mycroft and his nanny. Sherlock didn't speak with his parents much – neither did Mycroft for that matter – but when he did they spoke for only a few minutes before having to rush off to do more work. Mycroft acted as a teacher while his parents secured him a place in the high authorities with their long-term plans and job statuses. Unfortunately for Sherlock, Mycroft had to be _his_ teacher. Sherlock was starting to get to know John. John often spoke of his sister, Harry, who he cared for deeply even though she was struggling with her drinking. John had very average parents, his father working as a dentist and his mother working in an office.

Sherlock and John sat together in a lot of lessons, as well as at break and lunch time and after school. To them, it felt as if they'd known each other their whole lives. Looking back on old memories they saw them there. Playing together in the sand pit, swinging together on the swings. Birthday parties, weddings. Everywhere. Sherlock had never felt so comfortable around someone before. He spoke his complete and utter mind with John, John telling him if he was being rude or inappropriate as Sherlock didn't know the difference.

One day, something changed. Sherlock had moved up in his Maths class, leaving John in the set he was in. That was normal. Sherlock was extremely intelligent; the school had been moving him up in classes constantly. Still, something was there…  
At lunch time, John spoke with the other guys on the rugby team – including his friend Greg who he was fond of – before walking over to the spot where him and Sherlock normally sat. He waved over at Molly who smiled back. Then he noticed something. Sherlock was sat with someone. John hadn't seen this person before, but they seemed like they were deep in conversation. John walked over to them, neither glancing up at him when he arrived. "Hey Sherlock." John said, trying to get his attention. Sherlock jumped, completely consumed in his thoughts. He looked up at John and grinned.  
"Hello, John. I've made a new friend. This is Jim." The boy next to Sherlock smiled innocently at John, holding his hand out. John shook it. He sat down next to Sherlock as they had another engaging conversation. John felt like the biggest third wheel ever and decided to talk to some of his other friends for a change. Sherlock noticed as John started to walk off. "John? Where are you going?"  
"Don't let me interrupt your date; I'm just going to talk with some other people." Sherlock nodded, turning back to Jim. Sherlock didn't even deny it being a date, John thought. Maybe… Maybe he likes him?  
John had never really been sure about what sexuality Sherlock was. He had never taken interest in any girls, or boys for that matter, which had made it hard for John to deduce. I mean, it's not like he cared. So what if Sherlock liked boys? So what if he liked Jim? It wasn't any of John's business. John didn't like him in any way other than friendship. Or so he thought…

As school ended, John waited at the gates for Sherlock to appear. They usually went back to one of their houses to do homework together and then talk. Sherlock appeared, talking to Jim. Jim hugged him as they parted ways, Sherlock smiling slightly as he walked over to John. "Hello," he said. "My house or yours?"  
They walked in silence back to Sherlock's house, John trying to find something to say. "So," he started, "How did you meet Jim?"  
"Maths. I sit next to him now. He's so interesting John, I wish I could dissect his brain sometimes. That would mean he'd have to be dead so maybe not. You should talk to him John, we're so alike. It's like there's another person in the world who finally understands me other than my brother."  
"Well, I hope you two are very happy together."  
"What? What do you mean?"  
They had walked upstairs into Sherlock's room now. John turned to look at Sherlock. "You sound like you and Jim are an item."  
Sherlock looked at him, utterly confused. "An item? An item of what?"  
"It sounds like you're dating!" John nearly shouted. Why was he even annoyed about it? There was something in the back of John's head that just didn't click.  
"Oh, really? So apparently I'm dating him because I talk to him now?" Sherlock looked annoyed. "I talk to you, does that mean we're dating?"  
John felt himself start to blush, but he blundered through it. "You hugged at the end of the day. You two looked so engrossed in your conversation at lunch time you hardly noticed I was there."  
"So that makes us dating? I thought I didn't understand relationships, when actually John Watson, you don't either."  
John huffed in anger. "So you're not a couple?"  
"No, we're not. Would it matter if we were?"  
"No, of course not! I don't have a problem with you being- I wouldn't have a problem if you were gay."  
"Then why does it matter?!"  
"It doesn't, okay?!"  
The two sighed in exhaustion, not catching each other's gaze. John picked up his jacket and bag. "I've got to go. See you tomorrow." And with that, he left the Holmes household.

A few weeks had passed since their argument. They had agreed to forget about it and go back to normal. Sherlock still talked to Jim and John still sat there as a third wheel. Posters had started being put up around the school advertising the year 10 Ball. It was their last dance before they'd have to have their faces buried in books revising for their exams coming up in the next year. They were to dress up in formal clothes and dance to classical music and behave like it was prom. Pre-prom, their head of year had said. John had been asked many times by his friends if he was going – he was still unsure about it – when one afternoon, none other than Sherlock Holmes brought it up.  
"Are you going to the Ball the school is having for our year?" He said, after completing his homework and laying back.  
"I don't know yet. I don't know who to ask if I do go."  
"Maybe someone will ask you."  
"Maybe. Are you going?"  
"Yes; Jim wanted me to go so that we could monitor people's behaviours."  
"Oh. Okay. Maybe I'll go then." Just then, John's mobile rang. He unlocked it, putting the phone to his ear. "Hello?" He listened contently. "Yeah sure, I'll go with you." He smiled. "Okay, see you there." He grinned, locking his phone again. "Looks like I'm definitely going to the Ball. Sarah just invited me."  
"Oh interesting. Jim mentioned something today about the behaviour of teenage girls, really intriguing actually-" Sherlock continued to ramble on about Jim while John sat becoming tired of it. He sighed, feeling annoyed that the conversational topic had turned back to Jim. Sherlock was obsessed with him for some reason.


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, the date of the Ball had arrived. The year 10s arrived back at school in the late evening, dressed up in formal suits and gowns. Sherlock looked dashing in his tuxedo, the collars turned up in his usual fashion. John arrived with him, wearing a black suit, nearly similar to Sherlock's. As they gazed around they saw several other boys wearing the same and looking quite uncomfortable in them. The girls were dressed in gorgeous long gowns; high heels with their hair styled and make up done. They all looked like adults, for a change. John watched as Sherlock noticed Jim and waved at him. Jim waltzed over, a huge smile on his face. "Sherlock Holmes, what a pleasure to see you here." His Irish accent made the comment almost sinister.  
Sherlock smirked. "The pleasure is mine." Jim grinned before seeing John stood beside him. His smile lessened, an expression of bore shaping his face. He seemed bored by John's presence. "Hello, John."  
"Hi, Jim. Oh, there's Sarah, I'll see you later Sherlock." John hurried over to Sarah, telling her how lovely she looked and casually chatting her up. All the while he couldn't help but notice the way Jim was getting closer to Sherlock. Sherlock didn't seem to catch on, but John knew what flirting looked like, and that was definitely it. John was suddenly struck with fear for Sherlock as he saw Jim take Sherlock's hand and lead him to the fire escape that went outside. He told Sarah he had to go to the bathroom and followed them.

Outside, Sherlock rested against the wall. Jim left the door open a creak so they could get back in. No one would come out here even if they saw the door open slightly because it was hidden behind a curtain. No one except John.  
"The stars look exceptionally bright, tonight." Jim stated, resting on the wall beside Sherlock. Sherlock glanced upwards, nodding his head in agreement. He had never really been fascinated by stars or space; they just didn't interest him. Jim walked around in front of Sherlock, finding his words. "Though obviously that wasn't why I brought you out here. Do you have any ideas why I did, Sherlock?"  
Sherlock shook his head.  
"Wow, really? I've confused the great Sherlock Holmes?" Jim smirked, giving Sherlock a moment to appreciate his compliment. "But the flirting's over now, Sherlock. Daddy's had enough now! I'm hungry for more, for something else." Jim stopped pacing and found his place in front of Sherlock. Slowly, he leaned forwards, his mouth brushing over Sherlock's ear as he whispered, "Any ideas yet?"  
Sherlock stared at him, trying to figure him out. Then it clicked. His eyelids fluttered. "Jim-" Sherlock's speech was cut off by a pair of lips being pressed against his. Sherlock didn't know what to do in this sort of situation. He'd never been kissed like this before. Or well, at all. Jim's lips were surprisingly soft as they pressed against Sherlock's so aggressively. Sherlock started to enjoy the kiss, finally choosing to kiss Jim back. He felt Jim's body being pressed into his; he felt the bulge rubbing up against him. And he enjoyed it._ Interesting,_ Sherlock thought. _These emotions are something new._ Sherlock involuntarily gasped as he felt Jim's hand slide into his trousers. The gasp soon turned to a moan as Jim's hand grasped hold of what he thought was rightfully his, pumping up and down. "Say my name," Jim whispered. Sherlock opened his mouth but he couldn't speak. "Say it."  
"Jim," Sherlock breathed, "Jim-"  
"That's better," Jim muttered, smirking into the kiss. Jim's hand moved at faster pace, providing moans from him. Jim stopped kissing him, instead moving to his neck. He began by kissing, but slowly the kisses turned into biting. "Would you like me to go faster, Sherlock?" He whispered. There was something about his voice made him seem more powerful.  
"Yes," Sherlock muttered, "God, yes."  
"Yes what?" Jim grinned, biting down on Sherlock's neck especially hard. "Come on Sherlock, I've taught you this."  
"Yes Jim." Sherlock muttered, not liking the feeling of being the weaker one.  
"Louder."  
"Yes Jim!" Sherlock was annoyed now, though this seemed to encourage Jim. Jim's hand quickened, Sherlock was just about to finish when-  
"Sherlock?!" Both Jim and Sherlock searched for the voice. They looked to the doorway, seeing John stood there, confusion and embarrassment spread over his face.  
"John? Why are you-" Jim put his finger to Sherlock's lips.  
"Come to join in have you, John?" Jim smirked. "Or maybe you came here to shout at me for taking away your boyfriend." Jim turned back and pressed a long kiss against Sherlock's lips. He turned back to John, an evil grin on his face. "Jealous?"  
"We're not a couple! I'm not jealous!"  
"Then why are you here, pet?" John looked at the ground, finding something to say.  
"I was looking for Sherlock because I needed to talk to him, then I heard him say your name and didn't realise you two would be… Um..."  
"Okay. Well, you've seen us kissing, you've probably seen Sherlock's dick by now, you can leave. Sherlock was nearly done." Jim turned back to Sherlock, planting small kisses down his neck. Sherlock stared at John. John shook his head at Sherlock, before leaving. Sherlock felt a wave of guilt run through him.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim didn't care for John Watson. He found him dull and boring, not understanding why Sherlock was interested in him at all. He just loved seeing the anger on John's face as he gave Sherlock a kiss, though. Of course, the whole set up sounded like it was just to upset John, but really, Jim Moriarty was in love. Jim Moriarty? Really? Everyone thought he didn't have a heart to love someone with! But of course, of all the people… He fell in love with Sherlock Holmes. Jim was determined to make Sherlock love him back. So I asked him to the Ball, then took him outside and made out with him. Simple. Easy. But as soon as Watson came out and spoiled it, Sherlock didn't make a sound. Jim tried to kiss him again but Sherlock wouldn't kiss back. Jim finally gave up, sighing. "Off you go. After your pet." Sherlock could see the sadness in Jim's face as he said it.  
Sherlock smiled softly at him. "Another time. Please let me sort this out first." He pecked Jim on the lips, then redid his trousers before entering back into the Ball through the fire exit.

John wandered aimlessly around the hall. He felt so confused; Sherlock had told him that he and Jim weren't together. Had Sherlock lied? What did it matter anyway? Why did he care? It wasn't his relationship. He wasn't jealous of Moriarty… Was he? John remembered the look on Sherlock's face as John appeared; the way he was gasping and he looked so… Oh god. John's trousers suddenly felt very tight. John quickly ran into the boys' bathroom, grabbing a cubicle. He could do one of two things: He could either get it over with and masturbate over his best friend, or he could wait for it to go down. How long would that take? Ages, he imagined. _Fine then,_ he thought,_ I'll just do it_. He unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to the ground. Slowly, he put his hand into his red briefs, his hand clasping around his member. The images of Sherlock and Jim flooded into John's head, replacing Jim with himself. John bit his lip to stop himself from moaning. He started going faster, building speed until-  
"John? Are you in here?" Sherlock's voice rang through the toilets.  
"Urrrrrrrgh!" John yelled, spreading his seed everywhere._ Shit,_ John thought. _That'll take some explaining._  
"John? Are you alright?" Sherlock was outside his cubicle now, concerned for his friend. John opened the door, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. He avoided Sherlock's gaze. "John?"  
John finally manned up and looked at Sherlock. "Yeah?"  
Sherlock glanced around the room. "I'm sorry for what you had to witness. I didn't… I'm not used to this sort of…"  
"It's fine, Sherlock." John said, looking down. Sherlock sighed in relief. "So… Were you lying before? Are you and Jim together?"  
Sherlock glanced at him. "What? I didn't lie to you. Jim took me outside tonight and I had no idea that that was… Going to happen. As of now, I'm pretty unsure of where we stand."  
"How come?"  
"After you walked in on us, I couldn't really react. Jim told me to go and find you so I told him we'd continue another time."  
"Oh. Will you?" John let himself glance up at Sherlock. He looked thoughtful.  
"I assume so."  
"Right. Good. Or something. Okay. I'm gonna go find Sarah." John started walking to the door but stopped when Sherlock spoke.  
"What were you doing?" John turned around and looked at him, confused.  
"What do you mean?"  
"When I came in here looking for you. I asked if you were in here and you made a weird noise. What were you doing to make such a noise?" Sherlock genuinely looked confused. John couldn't imagine that Sherlock had ever… You know, before, so maybe John could get away with it. _The thought of Sherlock masturbating naked on his bed._ John gasped, feeling the blood rush down south.  
"N-Nothing! I wasn't doing anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go home. See you later-" John rushed out of the bathroom, hiding behind a curtain so that his erection could go down. He hid when Sherlock emerged, watching as he strode over to Jim. Jim winked at him and John watched as they laughed and spoke together. John texted his dad to come and pick him up. While he was waiting, he watched them. He studied them like they studied everyone else. Jim pecked Sherlock on the cheek after Sherlock making an apparently 'hilarious' comment, which made John's blood boil. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he masturbate over boys? Or, more to the point, his best friend?! What did this even mean? John felt so confused, he just wanted to go home and think everything over. John saw a worried look fall over Sherlock's face which Jim took as an invitation for a hug. With Sherlock's back turned, Jim looked straight at John in the shadows, and grinned devilishly. _"I win."_ Jim mouthed.

With that, John left the Ball. He left behind his date, he left behind Sherlock and his new boyfriend, he left behind his classmates. He felt like he needed a drink more than anything right now. Harry was definitely making an impression on him.


	5. Chapter 5

As Sherlock Holmes arrived back safely at his house, he went straight to his room. He was not accompanied by anyone; he felt that he had done enough with Jim for one day. John's reaction had confused him. He was so nervous and guilty, like he'd done something wrong. Sherlock decided to call him. Holmes lay back on his bed, relaxing into the soft duvet cover. He pressed John's number into his phone and put the phone to his ear. After 5 rings, John picked up.

"Heeeeeeeeey," John said into the phone, ending with a hiccup.

"John? Are you alright?"

"'Course I am you –hiccup- idiot. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Have you been drinking?" Sherlock didn't understand. First John had been nervous and guilty, now he was drunk?

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe I have, maybe I haven'ttttt. I found a bottle of, of vodka in Harry's room. She won't mind." He laughed.

"John, where are your parents?"

"They're out at a restaurant or something. Why does it maatter?"

"I'm coming over."

Sherlock ended the call, putting his phone back in his pocket. He ran down the stairs, picking up his set of keys and out the door. He jogged quite a bit of the way to John's – it wasn't very far – and sprinted when he was near the end. He knocked on the door, waiting for it to open. The door slowly opened, John's face a pale green. He grinned sleepily at Sherlock.

"Hey you bastard," John hiccupped, pulling Sherlock in and shutting the door. He pushed Sherlock up against the door, staring into Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock frowned, completely confused with the situation.

"John, I don't understand-" Sherlock was cut off by John pressing his lips against Sherlock's. Sherlock was shocked, not reacting to the kiss at all. As soon as John had done it, he pulled away. He ran into the kitchen, away from Sherlock. Sherlock pressed his hand to his lips, before following John into the kitchen. "John… This doesn't make any sense," Sherlock started. Sherlock had never felt more confused in his life than this day and the pressure of it all was finally getting to him. "T-tell me what it means, I-I don't… I don't understand," he trembled. Slowly he stepped closer to John, who stood on the other side of the kitchen pressing his head against a wall. John turned around, his eyes full of sadness. He noticed that Sherlock was physically shaking with panic at feeling this confused. "John!" Sherlock shouted suddenly. John looked up into his face. He walked over to Sherlock Holmes, pulling him into a tight hug. Sherlock hugged him back, before starting to cry into his shoulder. He didn't understand what was going on. Why was John sad? Why had he kissed him? Why had he ran away earlier that night? Why had he been drinking? The questions circled in Sherlock's head, making him dizzier.

John pulled out of the hug, pulling him over to sit at the table. "Sherlock… In answer to all your questions, I can only think of one possible answer. I think I'm in love with you."


End file.
